Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Feeding the Cullens

Okay y'all. I've had 3 boys tell me they made it into 2 paragraphs of my blog and had to stop reading. I politely tried to warn you in my last post that while I'm an equal opportunity blogger, some of the population isn't going to stomach reading my posts. 'Some of the population' meaning: all males in general. This is my official disclaimer: Please don't read any further if reading the words "period" or "uterus" makes you giggle or queasy.
 
Yesterday was our first visit to a fertility specialist. One of the coolest things I learned was they are going to do a test the next time I get my period in which they dye my uterus neon-blue to see if it's working properly. Sorry I threw that out there...but I wanted to make sure my stubborn readers who disregarded my disclaimer were paying attention. With that being said, I'll give you a second to close out the screen.
 
For you braver souls who can handle my female parts lingo, I'll continue. Mike & I had no idea what to expect from this visit. When you hear "fertility", we think of people who are having issues becoming pregnant. Since that isn't our case, we weren't sure what the deal would be. Let me just say this: if you love to people watch, ditch the malls and Wal-Mart and hit up your local fertility clinic. Those who know us KNOW that Team Peebles can't do anything seriously. We are sitting in the waiting room and the only other couple there is an older black couple. And by older I mean like early 50s. Obviously, I'm no genius. However, it doesn't take one to realize that hey, if you're approaching menopause, it may be the reason you can't get pregnant. If you can't get off the sofa in the waiting room without the help of a cane, you may be too old to get pregnant. What do I know, though. Abraham and Sarah had a kid when she was like 90. There may still be hope. (Um, was her name Sarah? Probably shouldn't be spitting out Jesus references until I verify.) Every person who walked through the door while we were waiting we...snickered like little kids. (Which could be the reason why we don't have one yet.) Not because we were making fun of them, because we totally weren't. We were just making up funny, fake scenarios for why they were visiting a fertility office. We especially had a field day for a sort of bum- looking guy who brought in a mini-cooler...like the ones the fat kids take on field trips...I mean, there's only so many things one could bring in a COOLER. To a FERTILITY specialist.
 
Anyway, I really like our doctor, who is very mild-mannered and sympathetic, extremely knowledgeable and accomplished, and also Jewish, which is super cool because I've never met an official one before. (Other than Seth Meyers from SNL Weekend Update and the most famous Jew of all, Jerry Seinfeld.) He basically got a sheet of white paper and listed all the possible medically known causes for miscarriages. There are 10. I won't bore you with them all. Bless his heart, he was trying to "dumb it down" for us, yet he didn't know he was dealing with the Google Master of "recurrent miscarriage" searches. I was totally impressed with myself because I had read about all the things he listed! Not to toot my own horn or anything. Toot toot.
 
All of the reasons could be tested by blood with the exception of one. That's the uber awesome procedure where he's going to light up my uterus with glow-in-the-dark dye to check for working parts. He showed me pictures of this. When I first sat down at his desk, I thought to myself, "why does he have children's books in that basket?" Then half-way through his chat he whipped out the 'children's books' and opened them up to the diagram section--of vaginas and glow-in-the-dark uteruses. (or is it 'uterii'??) Side note: Really?! Girl parts look like bulls. What sick joker was in charge of choosing the University of Texas' mascot? The Longhorn was all I could see while trying to keep a straight face during this sweet, Jewish man's presenation of glow-stick cookahs. See the image below for reference.
 
In a nut shell, this is an analogy of my situation...
 
Think of high school. There is always that nerdy, crazy smart person who is almost on another level of intelligence. He's a big fish in a little pond. Then he goes to a highly acclaimed college where there are hundreds of crazy smart people just like him. Now he's the small fish in a big pond. This is how I am now...at my ob-gyn's office (high school), I was "special" because of my MCs. Now, I'm at a "college" where everybody is pretty much like me. My new doctor thinks that even with 3, there's probably not anything wrong with me and that they happened by chance. He even classified my first 2 as "chemical pregnancies" because they ended so quickly into the pregnancy. My third is actually a "miscarriage" because we easily identified the pregnancy on an ultrasound. He said 1 out of every 3 women experience miscarriages at some point and they just don't realize it. Think about every late period you've had. It could've been stress causing the delay or it could've been a pregnancy. I'm just a lucky person because I'm able to tell when my body is late and can therefore take a test to detect the pregnancy.
 
They sent me to Labcorp for bloodwork with an order of 9 tests! They took 7 (yes, SE-VEN) tubes of blood. I convinced myself the lady taking it was feeding a family of nice vampires so I felt like I was doing my good deed for the day. The tests should either detect or rule out lupus, diabetes, chromosome issues, abnormal thyroid, infection, etc. Mike did bloodwork as well to check for chromosome problems, yet that is a ridiculously slim chance of being the problem, according to Adam Sandler's jewish uncle, my doctor. We have the all-clear to keep trying as much as we want, unprotected. We're shooting for pregnancy by the end of summer, so cross your fingers, toes, arms, elbows, legs, ankles, and eyes for us. Team Peebles is staying positive, encouraged, and most definitely, staying BUSY ;)



Wednesday, May 8, 2013

We're taking a test...

I'd like to start tonight's post by reminding my readers that I'm a girl...therefore, most things I post are girly and may not be suitable for boys' eyes. You've been warned.
 
As a follow-up, I'd like to report the the Jergen's Express lotion did NOT in fact turn me tangerine. I put it on consecutively for 3 days, then skipped a day and resumed. My arms and legs are actually a decent color considering I don't think I've seen the sun in fifty-leven days. I wish I'd have taken before/after pictures so I could share, but you'll just have to take my word for it. I'd show you my midsection in comparison to my limbs but I'll spare you the nauseum.
 
Speaking of nauseum, I'm trying very hard not to be 'hyper-aware Kristin' this week. For the past 5 months, I've been able to track my period and temperatures like clockwork. Since the latest miscarriage last month and considering I bled for like 2 weeks (which is a total exaggeration but hey, who's counting?) I have no idea when I'm supposed to start. If I count days since the first day of my last period, it should be anytime now. Usually, I dread my period like the plague because I know that in addition to the physical pain, it's also just a representation of another month gone by that I'm not pregnant. This time, yes, I admit, I'm actually looking forward to it. I know I spoke major crap about it and call me a giant hypocrit...but I totally miss my reliable relationship with my basal thermometer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
I stopped taking my temps when I found out I was pregnant last month so I have to wait until the first day of my period to start again for it to be accurate. Even though I'm a total expert at reading mucus (now THAT is just sad, seeing that in print) and knew when I was ovulating each month, I like the dependability of checking my temperature and logging it into my trusty app on a daily basis. Call me psycho, but it made me feel like I was accomplishing something or working towards a goal. I mean, let's face facts. I started the thermometer in January and was pregnant at the end of March. Don't forget that we get the "BADASS" award for GETTING pregnant. As I posted last week, I am doing a stellar job at NOT thinking about pregnancy/miscarriages/babies/etc. I'm even handling the fact that I've gotten invited to not one, not two, but FOUR. FOUR! baby showers in the month of May. The baby-making water around here is as rare as peach-cobbler moonshine for me, apparently. Our appointment is still for Monday after next and people have been asking me "what will they do?" Here is my answer: I have no idea. It's the first time I've been to a fertility doc so I'm assuming it'll be questions and questions and more questions. If anything, they'll take my blood. It's all just a "hurry up and wait" sitch. Story of my life!
 
This morning during class, one of my students came to me and whispered in my ear, "Mrs. Peebles-I gotta go. I started my period". I gave her a hug and sent her on her merry way to the nurse. I wanted to cry for her. I checked on her a little while later and the nurse told me that she was the 5th child to come to her this morning with the same issue! All 5 started their periods for the first time today. Please take a moment of silence at this moment to pray for them. Dear God, bless their hearts, ovaries, and uteruses. May they not have the shit-show my girly bits have turned out to be in their menstrual futures!
 
Keep in mind that I teach 10 year-olds. The other 4 students were in 4th grade!!!!!!! Holy hormones. I started my glorious womanhood at the end of the 6th grade, so I was twelvish. As did most of my girlfriends, I think. I remember it was a Friday and I had a friend come home with me for a sleepover. We were at my Mammaw's house (she had a daycare there) so we were playing/watching the kids in her backyard. I had to go to the little girls' room so I slipped into the kids' bathroom. I wiped...and I went, "Ew. Ahh?? EWAUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH". I had basically the same reaction to sex for the first time. Lisa (my friend) already had hers so she was basically like, "MAN UP! DEAL WITH IT". Then the cramps started and it was a total raging bitch every month until the precious words "ortho-tri-cyclen" came into my vocabulary four years later...
 
I was 16. April 22, 2002 was when I turned in my V-card. I recently had that anniversary and I shared that fact with Mike who at this point, just accepts the crazy that I am. I had the same partner until I was 20. (If only he had kept the same partner during that time!!!!!! Bust.) I had picked out my wedding colors and I also had my children's names picked out. Don't judge me for my loss-of-virginity-age. I feel very strongly that it all depends on the situation, the people involved, and who you have to talk to about it. Luckily for me, I have a mama that I can talk to and who will tell me straight-up how something is. I am a responsible person and I knew that hey, boys don't get pregnant: girls do. If something like that happened, it was totally on me. I knew and understood the consequences. Unfortunately, nowadays so many young girls don't realize that and end up getting pregnant (and inadvertently making me miserable by doing so).
 
I was a religious pill-popper back then and would freak the flip out if I was even a day late. I prayed til my knees hurt that I wasn't pregnant. One time, I even confused my PMS symptoms with pregnancy and took a test in the faculty bathroom at SVCC in Keysville. When only one pink line showed up, I cried tears of joy. CRI-ED. Especially since I had found out the week before that my long-time boyfriend of 4 years had only been dating me for 1. It has been eleven years since then and it is insanely amazing how much of a U-turn my thoughts have taken towards that subject. My knees are hurting now from praying for the complete opposite of my prayer that day in the SVCC bathroom. If it worked for me then, I'm pretty positive it will work for me now.
 
I've shared with you before that since I've been blogging, I've had so many people (strangers, old friends, new friends, etc.) share with me their similar stories or stories of people they know that have gone through the same thing I'm going through (and they ended with success!). These stories and experiences keep me going! I'd like to think we are in a cool new club or sisterhood or something. I'm on Pinterest and my favorite thing to do on it is pin quotes. The following are for all the women who have shared their stories with me! Thank you for reading. Thank you for praying. Thank you for supporting!
 





 
 
 

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Willy Wonka and the Express Tanning Factory

We are coming up on one month now since we found out we were pregnant for the third time! It is utterly amazing to me that four weeks ago tonight, every single thought that was in my brain was about pregnancy, being pregnant, possibly losing it, having the perfect excuse for being fat, etc. For three and a half weeks, I could literally NOT go five minutes without having the P word in my mind (and by "P" I mean the letter, not "pee", even though I was doing that every five minutes, too). I'm assuming that all pregnant women must feel that way the entire nine months. Technically, counting all three pregnancies, I've been pregnant for almost 4 months...HOLLA. Anyway, yes, this time was particually devasting, moreso than the other two, yet I have a totally different approach to it this time around: I'm doing everything in my power to NOT think about it. I find that when I do, I get a little teary and that's just not acceptable because God knows girls are super ugly with streaky, mascara tracks on their faces. I, for one, am a completely hideous crier. Big, red splotches on my cheeks. Puffy marshmallow
eyes that make my already-Chinese eyes even squintier. Ugh. So I find it best to avoid the situation entirely. I'm even dreading our fertility appointment because I'm still in the mindset that I'm in the "other fifty" percent of women who will never find out what the problem is. Okay, I must apologize. Apparently, I'm guessing--because I'm not really sure--because I'm avoiding any and all things involving "pregnancy" or "periods"--that I'm pre-menstrual which means 3 things:
 
1. I'm super whiny/bitchy.
2. I'm feeling like I weigh 458 pounds because nothing looks right on me except a 10-year-old white v-neck t-shirt that I stole from Daddy and my fat yoga pants that wouldn't know what yoga or excercise was if it hit them in the face.
3. I'm eating what.ever.I.freaking.want.
 
Moving on! I'm feeling particularly reminiscent tonight, hence the reason for this post! I have to go to a wedding Saturday night. The groom could be named as my true male BFF from literally pre-K. You all know from my previous post, Big Ben, Parliament, that my childhood, high school, and mostly college career consisted of a clique that included me and five guys that I had been tight with since the beginning of time--plus a permanent girlfriend of one of the guys. Said clique has since somewhat drifted apart, yet when we all get together, it seems like only a few days have separated us instead of years. Like I said, the groom is getting hitched which means the clique will be reunited!! I'm strangely nervous about this reunion, for several reasons. One of them is how I don't look much like my smoking hot seventeen year old self anymore. Not that I was smoking hot, because even then I thought I was chubby, but still. Ten years changes girls much moreso than it changes guys. Those bastards. All of us were platonic (most of the time) yet I felt like I was attractive enough to hang with them and know they if a random person asked them if they thought I was attractive, they said "yes". Or at least an "uh huh".  If you watched "That 70's Show", that is a prime example of our relationships. I was Donna--the relatively attractive girl who hung out with guys in a strictly-friendly manner--yet we could all openly joke about each of us being "hot".

In preparation for Saturday, several things had to be taken care of. While completing these errands, I went back in time and compared what I would have done ten years ago in preparation for an even such as this--which was basically our prom. Here are my thoughts:

*TAN.
-THEN: I would've been laying in a tanning bed everyday since February and been super, ridiculously dark by now. Think...Kim Kardashian.
-NOW: I just got back from Wal-mart from purchasing $3.00 Jergens Express "Natural Glow" lotion that's supposed to make me look tan in 2 days. I have no extra money to spend on a tanning package and even if I did, who the hell would want to undress after work, lather up lotion all over this gross, pasty white body, and lay in my own sweat for 20, long, hot minutes. So basically when you see me in the next two days, contain the "OOMPA LOOMPA" jokes. Think...Snooki. But don't say it to my face.
*OUTFIT.
-THEN: Short, tight, revealing. Underwear: optional (not cuz I was a slut, but cuz of underwear lines)
-NOW: Anything that covers up the cottage cheese. Underwear: one of those old lady Spanx one-pieces that sucks it all in for me so I don't have to.
*ALCOHOL.
-THEN: Made sure I was friends with somebody (older) there who would slip me drinks unbeknownst to nosey adults.
-NOW: Make sure I'm friends with somebody there who will slip me 3-5 Ibruprofens with every drink because the thought of a hangover makes me want to vomit, much less the alcohol itself.

Clearly, I'm stressing about this. I know once I get there, all will be okay and it'll be super fun and I won't even think these ridiculous thoughts. Chalk it up to the crazy roller coaster ride my hormones recently vacated! To give you some visuals, I've shared some pictures below. Hope you enjoy this quick walk down Memory Lane as much as I have tonight!

Prom 2003


Most of us...wedding in 2007
 
The Clique...wedding 2006

The upcoming groom and I...2006

Cookout 2008
 
What I'm praying I DON'T look like in 2 days...
Man Attacked By Oompa Loompa Gang